Chapter 77

Cross-Brain AN: An apology to our patrons for not giving you a preview of this chapter; the decision to split the previous one in half was one we made at the last minute.

Elsewhere in the inferno of Level 4, not far from the passageway to Level 5 but a good distance from the part of hell that had been devastated in battle mere minutes ago, three panting fugitives caught their breath as the last of the guards fell unconscious, leaving a pile of bodies covered in cuts, burn marks, and globs of still-boiling wax.

"That took… way too long…" Buggy panted through clenched teeth. "Seriously, just how fanatical can people be? Especially about causing pain!?"

"You… would probably be surprised about what people can be enthusiastic about…" Byojack muttered ruefully before raising his head with a proud grin. "Still, at least we finally took care of the last of the ones who had a bead on us!"

"YOU DIDN'T DO SHIT!" the non-senior members of the trio snarled at him.

"You're just out of breath from running!" Buggy added.

"Yeah!" Galdino concurred, glaring daggers at the old man. "We had to protect you from these bastards because you couldn't move anymore! Give me one good reason to not throw you into the fire, right now!"

Byojack stared back at the Agent with an unimpressed expression. "Because by now, my crew knows that I'm with you. Meaning that if the next time they see you they don't see me? They're going to rip out your spines. How's that for 'good enough'?"

Both outlaws gulped and reflexively rubbed their necks. Buggy did at least try to play it off by clearing his throat and continuing to plan. "A-Anyway! Now that Straw Hat's been captured… any ideas on how we can follow him down to… whatever sort of Hell Level 5 is?"

"Better question!" Galdino piped up, wringing his hands. "Now that we're finally free of that ignoramus and he's doomed to die, what reason do we have to not get out of this ungodly place as soon as humanly possible!?"

"Couple answers to that," Buggy promptly answered, giving the ex-agent a half-lidded stare. "A, dying or not, Straw Hat is still our best chance of getting out of here alive. Particularly with Magellan and the rest of this place on the warpath. B, even if we did get out of here alive and Straw Hat didn't, every ally of that rubber idiot would rise up as one and skin us alive, not even mentioning what his crew would do to us."

"And C," Byojack picked up seamlessly, and just as unimpressed. "My brother, who is the entire reason I'm here to begin with, is still imprisoned. So if you suggest again that we leave and abandon him, then I'll cry bloody murder and get us all killed just to spite you. Are we clear?"

"…as I was saying, why don't we start by having a look at what he left us?" Galdino backpedaled, doing his darnedest not to whimper through his rictus smile. Unslinging the bag from his shoulders, he set about unzipping its pockets. Examining the contents sent him on a slide from panicked to exasperated at how expansive the bag truly was. "Mrgh, where did that dumbass even find this thing? It would be most convenient if… hmm?"

Galdino carefully extracted a well-protected piece of paper from the front pocket of the bag and peered at it, grinning. "Excellent, we have a list."

"So what tricks does he have that we can use!?" Buggy demanded impatiently.

"Let's see… a first aid kit, a lunchbox… several of Lassoo's bombs… ooh, a guide to the Six Powers, I'll just hang onto—!"

"Oh, GUARDS!" Byojack started.

"ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT, I GET IT! Ugh, anyway, what el—?… are you kidding me."

"What? Did you actually find vegetables in there or something?" Buggy snorted.

"Actually, I think those are part of the lunchbox, but no. You recall how that imbecile used ammunition borrowed from his sniper, yes?" Galdino asked as one hand rifled through the main pocket. "Apparently, that was an afterthought. Usopp's actual contribution… was this."

Galdino withdrew a very simple object from the bag, Buggy and Byojack staring in flat disbelief.

~o~

Usopp had an only slightly forced grin on his face as he stepped over.

"Nobody in the world knows the power of rubber better than you do, Luffy. That's why I'm giving you this!" he announced, holding out… a single rubber band. "The Usopp Elastic Wonder! I could never temper it enough to be as durable as you, but I got as close as I could. It has 999 different uses. I'll be disappointed if you haven't found at least a hundred by the time we meet again, so you'd better be really creative with it, alright?"

Luffy grinned. "Thanks, Usopp! I'll find out all 999 uses! Heck, I'll even find one more!"

"No problem! Oh, and one more thing," he added, digging a box out of his bag and holding it out. "I figured if you wanted to try your Gum-Gum Blowgun some more, you could use some ammo. I've got it all labeled, so use it well."

"Why didn't you start with that!?" shouted… several of the crew.

Usopp snickered. "Like any of you wouldn't flinch at a rubber band in your face? I've kept that trick for this long for a good reason."

There was a bit of grumbling - and blushing, none of them could deny the flinching.

"And so contributes the Great Sniper Usopp! Come on, let's all sing a rousing round of the Sniper King song! Oooooh~!"

"Down in front, long-nose."

THWACK!

"GYAH!"

~o~

"…why am I even surprised?" Buggy huffed as he tossed the band back into the bag. "Let's just move on, is there anything we can actually use? What about those lockpicks he mentioned?"

"Lockpicks, lockpicks, lockpi—" Galdino stopped suddenly in the middle of scanning the list, his eyes blown very wide as he shot a newly fearful look at the 'care' package. "…I always was terrified of that woman," he muttered darkly, rummaging carefully through the bag and withdrawing Luffy's 'lockpicks.'

"…I don't know why I was expecting anything else," Buggy sighed, despite the face-splitting grin he was now sporting.

Byojack took one look at the 'lockpick' and heaved a heavy sigh of his own before taking some cottonballs out of his pocket and shoving them under his helmet. "I knew I'd need these again once we freed my brother, I just didn't think I'd need them so soon. Alright, then, let's proceed with the wanton violence and mayhem, shall we?"

And proceed they did.

-o-

Level 5 had proven the most difficult to upgrade. Adding icicles or hail could give prisoners easy access to weapons, the beasts present were already upgrades from Level 2, and the mysterious 'Demoning Away' added an extra level of hell that not even the staff could explain.

The added threats that they had decided upon were not immediately visible to Luffy from where he waited collapsed on a bench in the central cell near the bars, nor were they a serious concern for him right now. The uncontrollable shivering from the cold and the loss of strength from the cocktail of toxins in his blood were both bigger issues.

There were only two positives. First, the prison staff had neglected to secure him with sea prism stone. He wasn't in any position to take advantage of that when he was dying of poison and the Vice Warden watching him was holding a double-bladed halberd in one hand. Hubris though it probably was on Hannyabal's part, it was at least informed hubris.

The second positive was the light tingling sensation he felt in the back of his skull. Tingling that kept getting directed at what he was starting to identify as the other living beings around him: strong and unflinching from Hannyabal, who wasn't even shivering despite his lack of a shirt; weak and wavering from the other prisoners around him. And also completely gone from a few that were still sitting up, so that was disturbing.

Either way, the sensation brought to mind the days after Alubarna what Zoro had said had happened during his fight with that edge-guy who Luffy was likely to find later. So based on what he could remember of that conversation—which was most of it, it was cool, so it stuck—Luffy suspected that, hovering on the knife's edge of life and death, he was hearing the pulse of others' lives around him. Which meant he was getting a hint of Observation Haki! …Well, that or delirium. One of the two. Just in case, he did his best to brand the feeling in his mind while he was still conscious.

With a distraction lined up, all Luffy could do now was wait, force himself to stay conscious, and hope he'd be broken out so that he could either save Ace or… pass on the news to someone else who could. Stuck in this cell, under the eyes of a man whose face may as well have been carved of granite, for all the damage the weather should have been doing to him.

Speaking of whom…

"…why do you want to become Warden so much?"

Hannyabal blinked, staring, whether because of the question at itself or being asked at all. Luffy just shrugged.

"Cross said it's all you ever talk about… but he also said you're a good guy who really cares about his job. You're not an idiot who just wants the power so you can have it…" He grimaced, only just realizing that that might actually be a possibility. "…right?"

Hannyabal understandably reddened in anger at the simple idea of Straw Hat Luffy, of all people, accusing him of idiocy. But he wasn't so angry that he didn't listen to the whole question and give it due consideration. And that meant he calmed down.

"Not that it's any of your business," the Vice-Warden stated primly, "But since you're literally dying to know…"

He paused as if waiting for something. Luffy stared back at him.

"… it was a good joke, but I'm not gonna laugh… because I can't," he deadpanned.

Hannyabal rolled his eyes. "I told Domino that there was no point testing this 'pun-ishment protocol', but noooo…" He shook his head and stood up straighter, proudly raising his chin. "Anyway, to answer your question properly, allow me to draw a comparison. Consider Gold Roger and the Emperors: four juggernauts with massive forces and dominions, more than most people could ever have, and one individual who acquired everything the world had to offer, standing above everyone else in the deadliest of oceans. Now, look at Impel Down."

He swept out his hand, indicating the barren, billowing hellscape about them. "This prison is the ultimate bastion between the world and the demons it produces. Every single person employed here dedicates his or her life to punishing criminals and preventing them from doing any more harm to the world. And to be the Warden? To hold a position that says that you are worthy of the power and responsibilities of keeping the entire world safe from the worst of its kind?"

An honest smile grew on Hannyabal's pharaoh-like face. "Why wouldn't I want to do that? Nothing would make me happier, make me prouder…" He relished in the vision for the moment before sobering up and shrugging in a what-can-you-do gesture. "And of course, it'll be nice to have everyone looking up to me once I'm there. So hey, bonus!"

Luffy blankly stared at him, head falling to the side. "…well, you're definitely an idiot, so Cross was right about that."

"HEY!" Hannyabal barked, leveling his naginata at the prisoner. "I can still stab you, you know, that's part of the job description!"

"But…" Luffy continued, completely ignoring the explicit threat. "He was also right that you're a pretty good guy. You and Magellan."

The Vice-Warden froze (metaphorically), struck dumb by that comment, that compliment."Ah, w-well, don't think that flattery will get you anywhere! Even once I'm Warden, I still won't show you any—!"

"Will you both shut up?"

Both turned to see a man about twice their combined bodyweight in muscle, leering at them from another side of the cell.

"Especially you, brat. Stop encouraging the shirtless freak," he huffed. "Bad enough we have to hear him gloating to himself down here, don't need you feeding into his dumbass hopeless delusions."

Luffy stared blankly at the prisoner before looking at Hannyabal. "What'd he do to get in here?"

"Who, Prisoner 89725-A?" Hannyabal confirmed, stroking his chin in thought. "Weeeeell for starters, there was what he did to his parents—"

"Yeah, that's what I figured."

Almost offhandedly, Luffy shifted his position and swung one of his legs out. The sole of his sandal slammed the convict's face, the momentum squashing his head between the sandal and the wall. As the limb slowly retracted, Luffy huffing from the sudden exertion, the inmate keeled over, his broken nose outright shattering when he slammed face-first into the floor.

"You know, I should be punishing you for fighting," the Vice-Warden remarked, none of his brief surprise at the sudden attack showing.

Luffy stared back at him, waiting, but nothing came of it. "Well?"

Hannyabal shrugged and turned away. "Meh, rumors of rioting in the cells will just worsen Magellan's reputation and bring me one step closer to the Warden's chair. So for now, I'll allow it."

"Shishi—gugh," Luffy laughed until a full-body wince forced him to break it off. He gave his throat a hard thump, which broke up the chunks of blood-slush that had formed in his esophagus and allowed him to hack them up in a series of deep coughs. "Oooooow, I told you not to make me laugh…"

"Pff—!" That drew a crack out of Hannyabal, and he hunched over, a full-body guffaw imminent.

"Puru puru puru puru!"

Except when the Transponder Snail he had bundled up in his pocket rang, which immediately prompted him into professionalism again.

"This is Warden Hannyabal. Speak."

The brief, hushed conversation that followed was swallowed up by the howling of the Floor's winds. Well, aside from one, singular shouted syllable.

"WHAT?!"

Not thirty seconds later, the only man that Magellan would ever consider worthy to be his successor, his most faithful (if treacherous) subordinate, and his one true right-hand man deserted his post and ran giddily into the blizzard without a second thought.

Luffy stared after the Vice-Warden's tracks, blinking slowly in honest surprise. "…huh. So that just happened."

For the next couple of minutes, there was nothing else to distract Luffy from the cold and poison. But in short order, a familiar sound came over the wind: people calling his name.

"—FFY!" "—RAW HAT!" "—BBER-BRAINED IDIO—!"

…or some variation thereof, at least.

"I'M OVER HERE!" Luffy shouted back, immediately sending him into a coughing fit. And it was in that state that the three criminals—all properly bundled up in coats and mittens—found him in the cell.

"…You look like hell," Buggy dryly stated. "This was your plan?"

At that, Luffy looked up at them and smiled. An utterly composed grin that killed any lingering doubts in the minds of two of them that yes, this was the best plan the idiot could come up with.

"Right, then, let's break you out. We've got your archaeologist's 'lockpicks' to do the job." Buggy grinned as he moved over to prepare the impromptu key. Though honestly, 'key' was a bit of a misnomer.

~o~

Supported by multiple hands, Robin carried a large steel box.

"It took me a long while to decide what I could provide that you could use, Luffy. I considered and discarded numerous tools and weapons and numerous pieces of knowledge and advice. What I have settled on is the most efficient form of a lockpick that I believe that I can provide for you."

Two more hands opened the lid and revealed—

"…explosives. You're giving him explosives. You're putting explosives in my body," Merry sighed in resignation.

"I'll be careful. I promise," Luffy said firmly.

Robin, for her part, carefully showed him one of the sticks.

"I made as many as I could, each with its own detonator. They are easy to use: attach the explosive to the surface you want to destroy, then push the detonator. Use them well, Captain."

"I will. Thanks a lot, Robin."

~o~

"You know, just for the record?" Galdino called over the wax wall he and Byojack were hiding behind. "Considering how cold it is, my powers are working just fine. I could easily make a key to the cage, you know!"

"Oh, I know!" Buggy called back, chipperly at that. When he finished squeezing the explosive putty into the keyhole, his grin skipped gleeful straight into outright manic.

"This is just more fun."

With that, he bolted towards their shelter, vaulted over it—

"FIRE IN THE HELLHOLE!"

And blew the lock clean off the door in a single go.

Click…

...or, well, he tried to.

"Hey, what the hell?!" Buggy barked, poking his head up incredulously as he clicked the detonator repeatedly. "Oh, come on, this can't really be—all the others worked, why is this the dud!?"

Luffy blinked curiously at the going-ons before lighting up. "Oh, wait, I know!" He poked a hand through the bars and made a grasping gesture. "Give it here, lemme see it!"

Buggy's brow rose, but, lacking any reasons why he shouldn't, he tossed the detonator over to Luffy.

CRUNCH!

And gaped when the rubber man promptly crushed the device in his hand, grinning a much more loony grin.

"You dumbass! There's no way that that's ever going to—!"

BOOM!

Buggy's eye twitched furiously as he watched the cell door slowly grind open, a smoking hole where the lock had once been. "…I hate you, Straw Hat," the clown grit out. "I hate you more than words can describe."

"Shishishi, yeah, I know!" Luffy snickered in response as he shuffled his way out - and promptly let loose a massive sneeze. "AH-CHOO! Gah! Frozen snot! Ugh, how the heck is it colder out here than it was in there!?"

"Some walls protecting you from the winds, perhaps?" Byojack politely offered.

"Or you're just that much of an idiot and, you know, dying?" Galdino added, less than politely.

"Meh, whatever," Luffy shrugged as he switched to grinning at them eagerly. "Just so long as you guys grabbed me a coat too, I'll be fine!"

Buggy's expression immediately swapped to a truly, truly… in-sincere smirk. "Soooo sorry, Straw Hat, but when we broke through the guard outpost to save you, all the coats except the ones we're wearing caught spontaneously on fire—!"

"Which would be why I grabbed this while these two were fighting, because I foresaw exactly this happening," Byojack flatly interrupted, tossing a bundle of cloth to an ecstatic Luffy despite the withering glares from the other two outlaws. "Oh, bite me, it's not like you're even trying to be anything but predictable."

Luffy ignored the byplay, more concerned with yanking on his new coat and relishing in the new warmth. "Woo! I feel better already!" he cheered, shooting his arms up before blinking in surprise. "Heck, my arm's even stopped hurting!...actually, I can't even feel anything from the shoulder down! That's gotta be a good sign, right?"

"…yeeeaaaah, about that…" Galdino drew out.

"Shut up, I'm trying to stay positive. I'm not that dumb."

"…Well, whatever," Buggy snorted, waving the conversation aside. "Moving on from you slowly dying, we should really get out of here before anyone finds us."

"Oh, yeah, that reminds me!" Luffy exclaimed, looking around with curiosity. "I was wondering how you guys got rid of Hannyabal? I really didn't think he was gonna leave like that!"

That drew only confused stares. Luffy stared back and nervously scratched his head.

"…so… not you, then?"

"YOU MEAN THAT SHIRTLESS FREAK IS STILL ON THIS FLOOR?!" Buggy shrieked in terror.

"Yeah, but something made him run off, so he shouldn't… shouldn't…" Luffy trailed off, his voice and his legs almost giving out. "Agh…damn it. I…I can't…" Gritting his teeth, Luffy slapped himself in the face and forced himself to look up at the expectant pirates around him.

"Galdino, put on your armor and give Buggy some, too. We just… need to hold out… until… until…"

"DON'T GO PASSING OUT!" Buggy roared, grabbing Luffy by his shoulders and shaking him. "NOW! WHAT'S YOUR FLASHY PLAN?! HOW ARE WE GETTING OUT OF HERE ALIVE?!"

But Luffy was at the dregs of his strength. And it took the last of it to force out a few words. "Find… the okamas. Need to… save Ace…"

And it was only then, trusting his allies with his will, that he passed out.

"YOU DUMBASS FLASHY RUBBER TURKEY!" Buggy howled as he throttled the Supernova's unresisting throat. "'FIND THE OKAMAS!?' THAT'S YOUR MASTER PLAN!? WE'RE GOING TO DIE HERE BECAUSE OF YOU, YOU STUPID, STUPID—!"

"Actually," Galdino cut in, an uncomfortable look on his face. "I think I know who he's talking about. By all accounts, his crimes were not severe enough to condemn him this far down, but if he is here, he would be a great ally under normal circumstances. And if Straw Hat thinks he can help…"

"Well, then, how the hell do we find whoever the hell it is you're talking about!?" Buggy's head spun around—literally—so that he could better snarl at his fellow convict. "Because in case it slipped your notice, we're in Level freaking 5! Biggest and deadliest, one prisoner in here is going to be like a needle in a frozen haystack!"

"On that count, we're actually likely a bit lucky. Knowing him? He likely already knows we're here and is looking for us," Galdino explained. "So for now, better that we survive long enough for him to find us, and that we raise a big enough ruckus that he can find us faster."

"So… basically wander around, set things of fire, and set off massive explosions. Is that it?" Byojack bluntly summed up before heaving an exhausted sigh. "Lordy, and here I thought I'd moved on from that part of my life…"

With that, they trudged off. If they were going to raise a ruckus, better to do it in a place where they wouldn't draw attention to Luffy's empty cell.

-o-

Meanwhile, the gears of other plots continued to turn in the heated hells above. Within the desert, one of the prison's top staff along with two top-class Marines were finishing the battle that they had begun.

"Commodore Smoker, do you know any coping mechanisms for infernal rage? Because I've been pushed over the edge more than once over the last week and it seems like he has as well."

"Sorry, Vice Admiral. It's not often I have to deal with anything stronger than annoyance. And for that, breaking a bone or twenty usually serves to settle my nerves. As is, I'm pretty zen right now."

That comment only served to rile the Vice-Admiral even more, his jaw clenching even tighter on the way to a prisoner trying to crawl away. "Commodore Smoker is peaceful, Impel Down's been broken into, this damn war…"

THUNK! "GYAH!"

Momonga let loose a snort like an angry bull before ramming the tip of his blade through the meat of the prisoner's arm. "Has the whole world gone insane?!"

"Oh, please, you're embarrassing yourself," Saldeath sniffed, nonchalantly jabbing his pitchfork at the prisoner.

"AH-AH-AAAARGH! JUST KIIIIIILL MEEEE!"

"Leave the torture to the professionals. Aim for the pressure points for an effective disabling and the proper amount of agony."

Momonga's face reddened; Smoker stepped over to talk to the dwarf.

"What's bothering you?"

The demon-man looked up at the smoke-human with his usual languid stare. "I was that obvious about my consternation?"

"Hn. Hard to miss, it's written all over your face."

"True enough."

Momonga snapped his gaze between the two stone-faced soldiers, honestly unable to tell whether they were joking or not.

"Multiple matters, honestly," the jailer answered. "Too many prisoners are unaccounted for. Far too many should not be physically capable of rioting at all, not mentioning how many of their shackles were still locked. The World Pirates we can safely assume to be present for the sole purpose of liberating Byrnndi. Needless to say, that is a situation that absolutely must not be allowed to pass. At the same time, they are almost certainly not solely responsible for those events. And questioning them will be difficult, seeing as they've managed to either hide amongst the prisoners or barricade themselves in well-defended areas. The trouble has already moved past this level and seeped into the Blazing Hell."

The literally impish man exhaled sharply, and it was then that Momonga could discern how upset he really was… maybe.

Probably.

Context was really helping in this instance.

"And above all else, the fact that we have absolutely no idea how this could've happened is very troubling," the short Jailer grumbled, tapping his pitchfork in his palm in visible agitation. "Jeremiah Cross is enough of a wild card we should not be surprised at Straw Hat pulling it off. But the Worlds?" He snorted derisively. "Cross would never have given them the time of day, so someone else must have given them the intelligence and resources to pull off an operation of this scale. Someone who likely isn't here. Which means that even when we eventually quell this madness, they'll still be out there. And that…" Saldeath snorted and flipped his pitchfork in his grip, off-handedly ramming it through the squirming prisoner's leg. "That sits ill with me. As you can see, I'm rather stressed about it."

"So… you torture more when you're stressed?" Momonga ventured.

"Hm, what?" Saldeath blinked up at him as though he were an idiot. "No, of course not. I torture less when I'm stressed, obviously. After all, I haven't even gotten out the thumbscrews yet."

"…obviously."

"It should be a short list of people outside of Impel Down who know as much about it as the Voices of Anarchy," Smoker noted. "And an even shorter one with the resources and volition to abuse that knowledge for something like this."

At that, Saldeath's placid expression visibly darkened, and he looked away from them both. "Then I trust that the Marines or the World Government will be able to identify and persecute them with all due haste."

The edge in his voice was distinct this time. And that edge, combined with what he was specifically saying, sparked a connection in Momonga's mind.

"Chief Saldeath," the Vice-Admiral spoke, drawing the other two's attention to him. "I've wanted to know that since that Ratchet brat opened his mouth, so excuse me for losing my patience now: with the amount of carnage and collateral damage you get normally—?"

"—why are we repulsed and infuriated by the World Government's placement of the BioMEGA, who seem to embody Hell as well as they do?" Saldeath finished, regarding him with his normal blank visage save for narrowed eyes. "You are not the first. Though with any luck, Straw Hat's actions will make you the last. Several of our new…" his lips curled viciously. "Reinforcements have asked much the same. As, even, has your protégé, Commodore."

Smoker gave no response, neither bothered nor surprised.

"And Warden Magellan's answer has been the same, verbatim, each time." The imp straightened his posture, his head held high with pride as he started to speak in a clear recitation. "'Impel Down is a prison. A prison for the worst among the worst criminals. We exercise torture, cruelty, and inhumanity because it is what they have earned. The publicization of the finer details of our prison may raise some outcry, but the fact remains: every cruelty we inflict, every instant of pain and suffering we inflict, is equal to the acts committed by those we imprison. We exact justice by evening the scales and repaying these criminals the pain they have inflicted. In this way, every torture and horror we commit is just, and any truths of them that escape this place should only serve to discourage those who may otherwise come to dwell within these walls.'"

Saldeath's grip on his pitchfork tightened, both at the memory and his own feelings.

"'But those… entities," he continued, his voice as acidic as the original speaker. "Neither they nor those who sent them here care about balance or equality. They care only for results, for observations. To them, the prisoners are not criminals whose sentences are being served, but warm bodies upon whom they can inflict atrocities without fear of repercussion. Those things, they tip the scales too far. What those monsters are doing… is not justice.'"

There was a lasting silence until Momonga spoke.

"…a good speech," the Vice-Admiral admitted. "But I am still left wondering what your opinion on this matter is."

"Immaterial," the imp answered immediately.

"But—"

"I am a Chief Guard of Impel Down, and Magellan is the Chief Warden," Saldeath stated with solemn deference. He then jabbed his weapons' tines at the armband of a nearby guard, who immediately snapped into a salute. "If I and all who bear our flag did not trust him implicitly, he would never have become our leader. And if we did not trust him, then the walls of our nation would fall, and the world would suffer for it. There is not, and can be no question: as goes the Warden so goes the prison. So it has always been, and so shall it always be."

While Smoker hid the reevaluation of his plans behind his normal expression, both Marines had a measure of respect in their eyes.

Unfortunately, such a moment was made to be ruined. And ruined it was by the sound of shifting sand and creaking stone nearby as something pressed hard against it.

All three of their gazes turned and scowled as the very lumbering, spike-riddled abomination they'd been discussing trundled past, its bulk scraping against what intact cells remained. It limped along, bloodied but unbowed from its bout with the wotan. It showed no interest in them nor any sign of stopping, yet nonetheless drew their ire for its existence.

"And currently…" Saldeath muttered darkly, tipping the brim of his hat down so that his eyes glowered balefully from the shadow. "The Warden is of the opinion that these monsters need to go. But we can't because that would be insubordination. Would have preferred to see that pirate gut that thing, but I suppose we'll just have to be patient and—"

SCHLING!

Saldeath blinked in sincere surprise when a sudden sword strike smote off the abomination's skull, or what passed for it. "Or that, that works too."

In mild surprise, the Commodore turned to regard the Vice Admiral. His expression was carefully blank aside from his slightly narrowed eyes, which were locked in on the downed BioMEGA. So when the monstrosity stirred, he stepped forward with an iron grip on his blade, reared it back—

"Wind Cannon."

—and stabbed it forward, the force coalescing into a sharp blast that tore through its exposed neck and through its body. The corpse bulged and shuddered a final time before finally, mercifully, falling still.

Momonga looked away from the pile of flesh and metal back at his companions, his face set in an expression of perfect neutrality.

"My sincerest apologies. I thought that it was going to attack," he said blandly.

"…so it seemed," Saldeath concurred just as blandly.

"Hrmph," Smoker huffed out, giving an air of deliberate nonchalance to affirm that he would corroborate his story.

That, and to hide his pleasure at the action: an act of Justice in defiance of policy and orders.

It wasn't enough yet, not even close, really… but at the very least? It was a start.

-o-

Meanwhile, located on the Level between the two parties working to help Fire Fist Ace…

"Straw Hat Luffy has infiltrated Impel Down." A repetition, not a question.

"He has been subdued." Answered with another insistent repetition.

"…so be it. We will accelerate our schedule. Sedate Fire-Fist and Straw Hat and then present them. They will be held at Marineford until their executions."

Magellan's temper, already badly strained by the events of the past week, flared at the order. An order that very blatantly defied the policies and treaties that had been in place for literal centuries. And not just that, but defied them at the exact time they should have mattered the most. Amid the anger, he managed to feel curious about what Straw Hat and Fire Fist had to do with each other. But he put the question out of his mind, the better to focus on keeping his face clear and suppressing any miasma.

"Neither of those orders is possible," he said, slowly and deliberately, in an attempt to very politely explain why there was literally no chance in hell of that happening. "Straw Hat is fatally poisoned. He will not survive the journey to Marineford, and my Vice Warden has orders to keep a constant watch on him so that no 'miracles' allow him to leave this prison alive. So that avenue of discussion is closed."

The discontent on the other end was palpable, but with no verbal reply, he continued.

"As for Fire-Fist, that will not be happening on my orders. His date of execution has already been set, as well as the hour of his release to the custody of the Marines. Those dates can be set back with an appeal, but not accelerated. I cannot and will not remove him more than 24 hours early. Besides." Magellan folded his hands behind his back and drew himself up to his full height. "He is more secure here than anywhere in Marineford."

The discontent remained—elevated, even. Then it calmed, or more likely put on a veneer.

"Protocol is no matter under these circumstances," the snail blandly responded, ignoring the affronted double-take on the Warden's face. "If anything changes, you will do everything in your power to ensure that Straw Hat arrives at Marineford alive. But in either case, you will sedate Fire-Fist and present him for relocation immediately. That is an order."

And that was the final straw for Magellan.

"That will not be happening, AND!" Magellan raised his voice in a sharp bark, cutting off any response from the snail. "You cannot, and will not be able to make me. I am not in your chain of command. I am not in any chain of command, for that matter. I am the Chief Warden of Impel Down, and within these walls, there are no orders that supersede my own. None of my men will heed your words without my permission, and on this matter, you do not have it. For centuries—centuries—Impel Down has stood as a bastion of law and order against injustice. Every law we have followed to the letter, and every law we enforce. None may break them and none may bend them. Not even ourselves. Especially not ourselves. And on this matter, you may be certain: there is no question or compromise."

His tirade finished, Magellan allowed himself to snort out a single cloud of venom. His face was twisted into an ugly glower, one aimed both at the voice that dared to dictate terms to him and the admittedly innocent Snail with the misfortune to be the messenger.

"Fire Fist Ace will leave this prison on the date of his execution, and not one second sooner," he finished, repressed anger quivering beneath the polite veneer. "And any Marines who attempt to withdraw him before that time? Will not survive the attempt. That. Is. Final."

For a moment, there was silence. But of course, it could not last.

"So be it," the snail drawled, terse with a repressed fury of its own. "We will follow protocol to the letter. But in the meantime, you would do well to reconsider your stance, Magellan. Remember well whose flag you serve. KA-LICK!"

The liberated snail whimpered as the voice left its mind and it snapped right back into its shell, clearly expecting an ignominious end. It was only with a great effort that the poison man instead hocked a caustic loogie in the face of a scarecrow in the room, recently installed for just such a purpose, one that dissolved its face in seconds.

"…remember well the flag I serve, was it?" Magellan growled to himself, turning his gaze to his armband. Imbued upon it was the cross-section of the letters I and D, the simple but distinct symbol of the prison.

There were many symbols and icons that could be found within the walls of Impel Down, flags and sigils by the boatload, tattooed on flesh and etched into walls. But of all those countless, countless markings, there was only one emblem that carried any form of weight in the prison.

Only one.

Magellan loosed another bone-rattling growl, his teeth grinding furiously. "Hrmph. It seems that I remember it far better than you."

Caring only for the bottom line with no thought of the in-between is a common mistake among those in power. A similarly common mistake is believing that the ones beneath them were powerless and unable to effectively strike back. And believing to have power over those you have the least control? The most common—and most deadly—mistake of all.

But ultimately, regardless of the politics, the one true bottom line remained unchanged and immutable: Magellan was the Chief Warden of Impel Down, and its undisputed ruler. And if ever this fact were to be forgotten, then there would be Hell to pay.

-30 Minutes Later-

"Ah-ah-wahCHOO!"

Tashigi shivered in the icy tempest raging around her, miserably snorting and sniffling in the cold. "I swear…" she snarled through chattering teeth. "That if I ever, ever... get my hands on the raging bastards... who skimped on the materials for these coats… there will be Hell to pay."

"Kyuuuuuun…" the fur-bundled wolf-rabbit clinging to her back intoned in agreement.

The guard that was leading her and the rest of the squadron she was with through the blizzard glanced back at her. "You know, you could drop the furball, might make your life a little easier."

Tashigi snorted derisively, a glob of half-frozen snot shooting out and onto the snow.

"Trust me, as much as I would love to drop this dead-weight from my back—" she said, grimacing in disgust at what she'd just produced.

"Kyu."

"—cram it, lettuce-lard. Anyway, I would, but there are two problems with that. The first being that these snowbanks are too high for him to follow us. If he walked, he'd freeze or suffocate, and for some godforsaken reason, I've actually come to like him and would be very unhappy if that happened. Maybe he fucked with my memories somehow, maybe I have a very, very bad habit of growing fond of inherently unlikeable individuals. Whichever it is, I have to carry him."

"Huh… fair enough. And what's the second reason?"

Tashigi's already grim gaze fell flat. "The furball's paws froze to my back half a mile ago, I literally cannot get rid of him."

"Mrfl!" the bundle on her back shivered in agreement.

The guard blinked slowly. "Ah. Well, then… maybe you'd be better served going back to the guardroom and defrosting, then? We can continue following their track ourselves, and—"

"That is not happening, even if I lose my nose to this cold," Tashigi interrupted, increasing her pace to pull ahead of the pack. "We've been chasing this buffoon since before he left the East Blue, and I'll be damned if I let him slip through our fingers now!" She maintained her accelerated pace for a few seconds, before pausing and looking back over her shoulder. "To be clear, I acknowledge your skill and expertise in these matters, truly I do, but this is a matter of pride. Surely you can understand that?"

"…yeah, I suppose we can. Still, I hope you're prepared to be disappointed. There's usually not much fight left in any escapees we find down here, and that's if we find them alive at all. And the chances of that happening have dropped dramatically since our latest… upgrade to the facilities."

"Ah yes, the fabled changes that were made to the other floor. What fresh hell did you bring to this frozen one, pray tell?"

"If you don't watch your step, you'll find out the hard way."

"Eh?" Tashigi blinked, giving the guard a confused look. "What are you—?"

"KYUN!" Popora abruptly yelped, yanking hard on Tashigi's jacket.

"Ow!" the Marine yelped, suddenly caught off-balance. "Hey, what are you—?!"

CRACK!

The words froze in her throat—not literally, but it was a close-run thing—when the snow abruptly split open and revealed itself to be ice.

Tashigi blinked rapidly at the frozen doom before her, before slowly turning her head to look over her shoulder. "…All the carrots you can eat once we get out of here. All of them."

"Kyu-hu-huuu…" Popora whimpered.

"The upgrades were designed to make breakouts and hypothetical break-ins harder," the guard smugly explained as he led their party around the hazard. "So when it comes to the most dangerous prisoners, we didn't focus on them or their cells. We focused on everything outside of their cells. Thin ice pitfalls into shallow water cover the whole floor, which'll immobilize pretty much anyone. And along with the wolves, we've got our new resident yukinba, too."

"Yukinba?" Tashigi parroted, askance. "How and where did the Government find a snow hag, let alone convince her to come here?"

"'Convince' isn't the right word to use here," one of the following guards chimed in.

"Not 'find' either, to be frank," another agreed.

The 'Inquisitor' raised a frosted-covered eyebrow. "Then… how would you put it?"

"A most generous donation," the guards intoned with far too much malicious glee.

Ignoring the blank looks Tashigi and Popora gave them, the guards resumed marching, forcing the Marine and her helper to catch up. "You're not saying that she's a slave, are you?" Tashigi demanded.

"Not any more than any other prisoner," a guard answered. "She had a bounty on her that was excused for services rendered, but when those services became irrelevant, it came into play instead. Frankly, she's serving out her sentence in better conditions than everyone else here, and it's not like she'll be doing so for much longer anyway."

Tashigi turned that information over before sighing, "…would you mind spelling it out?"

"Fine, then," one guard said cheerfully, pointing to the cells in the distance. More specifically, a particularly elevated cell atop a pillar of stone that, from the shade of its stone, appeared to have been added recently. And was spewing out freezing cold air by the blizzard?

"That tower over there? It's the, heh, presidential suite of this level, added specifically for the user of the Cold-Cold Fruit, Madame Hiuo Hiruno. She was a bounty hunter with a sadistic streak, but she lost everything a couple of months back after one clash too many with the Accino Family. And when it sunk in that she wasn't in any state to keep herself valuable enough to not have a bounty? Guess she taught her grandson all she knew: he turned her in and ran off with the money for a cozy retirement."

"…that is disgusting," Tashigi said, shaking her head and making a mental note to look into where he'd ended up.

"You've got that right. But she's worse between the two of them. The deal is that she spreads her powers around to make things colder than we could ever manage, and we provide her with enough decent food and medicine to stay alive with half of her body melted off. Almost not worth the trouble or mercy, but in the long-term, an experienced fruit user is worth more than a powerful fruit."

"Ya think Magellan's going to put the Cold-Cold into circulation for this floor's warden when she kicks it, or just make it 'final punishment' for the lifers?" one of the guards wondered.

"Toss-up, really. We'll have to see how effective it is."

Tashigi's eyes remained on the tower for a few seconds more. Then she sighed and returned her attention to her temporary companions. "Not that touring this hellhole hasn't been fun, but I'm losing feeling in my everything here. How are Straw Hat's tracks looking?"

"Luckily not that bad, we should be catching up to him soon—"

And just like that, everyone stopped moving and speaking, for they'd found something and it was not an escaped convict. It was, at least, a very clear, if terrifying, sign that he'd been through there.

Mostly unburied by snow was a gargantuan bipedal beast, its hide a patchwork of mechanized steel, clear white fur stained in blood, and bare bone. Large chunks of flesh were missing, long strips torn out of its hide with the precision of a surgeon's knife. And almost every inch of its formerly smooth black and white skin was covered in swollen red polyps as if someone had turned the skin inside-out.

Yet another of the World Government's prototype BioMEGAs lay before them, decommissioned with extreme prejudice.

"The hell was this thing, an overly roided amoeba!?" Tashigi sputtered.

"More like the sick product of an orca and a polar bear."

The Marine blinked at that, honestly caught off-guard. "…alright, I'll admit: I'm both impressed by that one, and terrified."

"Alllriiight," one of the guards drew out, gingerly poking his gun's bayonet into what he assumed was the remains of a tibia. "I think we can safely guess that this thing ran into Straw Hat. And good riddance too, yeah… but…" He slowly looked around, his body language tense and nervous. "That's all I can tell. The trail… runs cold here. I don't… see where else he could have—!" The guard's jaw clamped shut, and he and his fellow compatriots exchanged panicked looks.

Meanwhile, Tashigi withdrew a shivering Transponder Snail from a well-insulated pocket and spoke into it.

"Commodore Smoker, this is Lieutenant Tashigi. I have news from Level 5. I'm terribly sorry to report this, but…"

She was especially happy for her scarf this moment, as it did a fantastic job of hiding her smile.

"We have lost track of Monkey D. Luffy. I repeat, we have lost Straw Hat Luffy."

-o-

In the Warden's office, very shortly after that report was issued, Hannyabal and Domino stood before the Warden while a pair of snails connected Sadi and Saldeath, along with Smoker and Momonga. From the atmosphere alone—and the fact that all present, remote and otherwise, had to wear gas masks to breathe—it was evident that this staff meeting (read: inquisition) was guaranteed to be nothing short of… unpleasant.

"Vice Warden Hannyabal," Magellan growled, his voice the voice of a man off his meds. "I put you in charge of guarding Straw Hat's cell with the explicit orders to not let him out of your sight until he was dead and gone to prevent this precise situation. And yet. In spite of my direct orders, you turned your back on him, and he escaped. And has now disappeared."

"That, uh, that is correct, yes," Hannyabal whimpered, nodding jerkily.

Magellan's palms slammed down on his desk, the man shooting up to tower over the imminent dead man in front of him. "WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO SAY FOR YOURSELF, YOU INCOMPETENT SACK OF SKIN!?

"I-I-I was responding to an urgent report by one of the other guards and taking a chance to truly do good for the world, I swear!" Hannyabal yelped, reeling in terror.

The fervor—and more importantly, the plain honesty—of the reply surprised Magellan, shocking him out of his rage. That did not mean he sat down, and his eyes remained narrowed. "And that chance was?"

"C-C-Cross! Jeremiah Cross!" Hannyabal spat out in panic, immediately stunning everyone else. "I-I received reports of him being sighted on Level 5! You can check with the surveillance rooms, they reported to me directly because I was the nearest ranking officer!"

Silence. Complete silence while Magellan processed that. He opened his mouth—

"And of course I verified it with the reporting guard first! He said that he would stake his life on it! And I staked my life on it too, clearly, because I am so far in the weeds right now and I know that and—!"

"Domino."

The Chief Guard dope-slapped the Vice-Warden, which mercifully got him to clamp his hands over his mask's breathing apparatus.

"Thank you," Magellan huffed as he slowly sank back into his seat. With a shuddering groan, he let out another cloud of miasma. "…eeeeergh." Slowly, he gave Hannyabal a distinctly unimpressed stare. "I will choose to ignore the real reason why you went after him, and pretend that you did what you did for the sake of altruism, justice, and the good of the people of the world."

"Hey, it can be both!"

"Shut it!" Thankfully, the pharaoh-like Warden did just that. "More to the point, what do you have to show for it? Where is Cross and, more immediately, where is Straw Hat?"

"I-I-I don't know! And I couldn't have been trying harder to look for them!" Hannyabal explained. "I found tracks where the guards reported sighting Cross, and I followed them as far as I could, but… well, they eventually ended! H-He disappeared right into the aether!"

"And I received much the same report from my subordinate as well," Smoker chimed in. "She followed Straw Hat's tracks to the end of the trail, but nothing beyond. Wherever they were before, they're gone now."

Magellan looked ready to boil over, and both Domino and Hannyabal onto the balls of their feet to bolt before they were subjected to an acid bath.

And then, all at once, the Chief Warden's rage evaporated as his eyes widened.

"Disappeared…" he whispered. Seconds later, his gaze returned to his vice-warden. "Get me the list of every single prisoner that was 'demoned away'."

"I have it here, Warden," Domino cut in, swiping a thin notebook off a nearby shelf and handing it to him. Magellan flipped it open and scanned the contents for all of two seconds before he stopped. His eyes narrowed and his fists clenched as he slammed the book down onto his desk, his finger pinned to a page. Slowly, his two subordinates leaned forward to read the entries by his fingertips.

"Emporio Ivankov. Wielder of the Horm-Horm Fruit, a Revolutionary, and renowned as… the miracle-worker," Hannyabal read, the implications sinking in fast.

"Inazuma… wielder of the Snip-Snip Fruit and another of Dragon's soldiers," Domino continued, her voice tight.

"And Bentham, wielder of the Clone-Clone Fruit. Captured on Alabasta's coast, after helping the Straw Hats escape justice," Magellan stated in a far too-calm voice. "He played us. He. Played. Us."

Eyes wide in dawning comprehension, Hannyabal spun around and all but scrambled for the door. "Warden, I'll gather the guards and start combing every inch of—!"

"No."

Even as the word was, it halted everyone in their tracks.

"We are not going to waste valuable energy and resources attempting to hunt them down," Magellan stated, his voice totally, honestly controlled. "They have evaded us for the past five years, we certainly won't have any better luck finding anything amiss now. No." He shook his head. "We shall instead wait for them to come to us."

"You think they'll break cover?" Saldeath surmised.

"Straw Hat Luffy certainly didn't enter our facility in order to reserve himself and his crew cells next to one another," the Warden dryly pointed out. "No, he'll attempt to leave eventually, and when he does, he'll have reinforcements."

"From practically every single Revolutionary that's survived more than twenty-four hours, and the other demoned away prisoners besides," Domino hissed, her voice having a panicked edge. "Sir, I'm as patriotic as the next guard, but if I may speak frankly? We are so screwed."

"And if there's anyone who knows 'screwed', that would be us," Sadi concurred, sounding equally concerned.

Magellan simply looked at his Vice-Warden and his Chief Guards, his most trusted administrators. Standing, he moved to another part of his office. There he roused a particularly chubby yellow snail surrounded by various pieces of machinery, who immediately sprang to attention. Magellan lifted the receiver. When he spoke into it, his voice echoed throughout the entire prison.

-o-

"Guards and jailers of Impel Down, your attention. In a matter of days, possibly a matter of hours, we will be faced with an attempt at a mass jailbreak that this prison has not seen since its inception. Well over a hundred prisoners will come at us with nothing to lose, fighting for liberty, and without fear of death.

"You all know our mission, and what is at stake. I trust each of you with my life. But I have also heard murmurs of discontent. I share your concerns. We are trained to handle minor uprisings, to put down prisoners who are weaker than their prime where we hold the advantage. Our foes would make us legends, but we do not fight fair, nor with honor. We fight with treachery, deceit, and even outright evil so that the world at large might not suffer the sins we safeguard.

"Think of our heroes: the Eternal Eye, who let not a single shadow or soul go unobserved for more than a moment. Or the Final Shriek, who kept the prisoners terrified and hidden within their cells for the entirety of her life. These giants do not seem to give us solace here, but they are not all that we are.

"Before Seastone, there was steel and will. Before the Jailer Beasts and the Blugori, there was might and fury! Our terror stopped the tide that sought to follow Shiki, and with it, we held the line! Our fury stopped the Gold Roger Riots, and with it, we held the line! Our willpower will stop Straw Hat and his collaborators; in the coming battle, WE WILL HOLD THE LINE!

"GUARDS OF IMPEL DOWN! I ASK YOU NOW! IN THE FACE OF EVIL, WILL YOU HOLD THE LINE? WILL YOU STAND WITH ME?"

And with all the righteousness of centuries of pride, centuries of justice, centuries of the will and certainty that what they were doing was right, the guards of Impel Down stood as one and roared.

"…Hmph. That's what I thought. Men, prepare for war. Prepare for death. And prepare to let not a single inmate leave our walls alive. That is all. KA-LICK!"

-o-

In the highest office of the prison, Hannyabal regarded Magellan for several moments as the Chief Warden—the man who held the position he'd coveted for his entire life—hung up the snail through which he'd just completely solidified his support. Then, an honest smile bloomed on his face.

"I had forgotten why I liked being your Vice Warden," he said wryly, before tilting his head. "Although… why did that speech sound a little familiar?"

Magellan smirked as he walked back to his desk. "It's not just pirates who can draw inspiration from that snail's ramblings. No idea what he was talking about, but it seems to have done the trick."

"That it did, sir, that it did," Domino chuckled wryly, snapping into a crisp salute. "Well! If you'll excuse me, I have men to rally, war to prepare for…" She turned and started to leave the room, before pausing at the door and glancing back. "You know? With how exciting this all is, I'd almost be eager. If I didn't know we were going to be facing Straw Hat Luffy."

"Hrmph…" Magellan huffed, sinking into his chair and letting a smirk come across his maw. "An amusing concept, Chief Guard, as I find myself feeling much the opposite."

Domino frowned in confusion, for a moment, before shrugging and leaving.

Magellan turned his attention to the snails on his desk. "You all know what you must do. Prepare yourselves. Tartarus-willing, our determination will see us through in the end. Dismissed."

One by one, the snails hung up, leaving Magellan alone in his office.

Or at least, almost alone.

"Something on your mind, Vice-Warden?" the titanic demon inquired.

Hannyabal stared back at him for a straight minute, his face perfectly blank, before slowly crossing his arms. "If this blows up in our faces, I'll likely be sitting in that chair in less than a week," he stated, casually and without a hint of worry because it was something they both knew. "So I have to know… do you think we can pull this off? Honestly and truly?"

Magellan leaned back in the very chair they were discussing, considering the matter.

" I believe you are asking the wrong question," Magellan intoned, his voice low and heavy. "The relevant question here is one that all who are mighty must ask themselves before they embark upon any endeavor."

"…and that question is?"

Magellan slowly stood from his desk and walked past his Vice-Warden. He opened the door to his office and stared out into the inferno. And as he regarded his domain, he spoke his thoughts.

"The question, in this instance, is not and should not be 'can we'. Rather… we must ask ourselves whether or not we should."

-o-

In contrast to the rest of the prison, the hidden sanctuary of Level 5.5, a normally vibrant place in a near-constant state of partying, had fallen silent. Emporio Ivankov stared at the monitors showing the rest of the prison, observing the fervor of the guards from Magellan's speech. They were primed and ready to lay down their lives.

"…this will not be easy," he (at the moment) stated gravely. "Even if Straw Hat-boy does manage a miracle beyond miracles." After a moment contemplating that thought, however, Ivankov shrugged dismissively. "But before all that, I have a miracle of my own to work. No time like the present!"

With that, he turned away from the monitors and swept off to the room where Straw Hat was being secured by Inazuma, scooping up a large white box as he left. When he arrived, he found the boy wide awake and watching him, despite the grimace of pain on his face.

"You are definitely your father's son, Straw Hat-boy," Ivankov murmured. "Coming this far knowing you will go through every hell imaginable, and not flinching in the face of death. Brave. Impressive. And most importantly, very stupid."

"I. Have to save. Ace," the stupid boy in question bit out, yanking and struggling furiously at his chains. "LET. ME. GO!"

Inazuma winced and reached up to rub at their temples; Ivankov merely stared at him, unimpressed, before opening the box and removing the smaller box within.

"The last thing that either one of you needs right now is for you to appear before your brother on the verge of death. And neither your crew nor—more importantly to me—your father would forgive me if I let you try. I and all of my companions will join you to save him as soon as you are in the proper state to do so. Which I will remind you, you very much are not in right now."

Luffy glared for another second, but his eyes slowly closed in grudging acceptance. The okama's fingers transformed into syringes and dipped into the many antidotes in the box he held.

"Now, under normal circumstances, I would be shaving ten years off of your life to do this. But by utilizing your doctor's contributions, I believe that I can reduce that roughly by half. That will, however, make this no less agonizing for you."

Ivankov peered at the note he had been left. "Please open your eyes while I tell you this, you're too close to death's door for me to risk you slipping away," he said, idly.

Luffy complied, though not without a groan of protest.

"As Cross-boy saw matters, your failure to save Ace-boy was due in large part to you pushing yourself too hard. Running on the fumes of fumes, you almost succeeded. Now that Impel Down is onto us, even if not the specifics, for a mercy, it will be a great struggle to leave this place, and you will need all the energy you can muster to make it through them, much less Marineford should our plan go awry. When your treatment is finished, you will be emaciated and exhausted. We will leave to retrieve your brother from his cell when you are nourished and well-rested without the aid of my hormones."

Luffy's pupils shrunk almost ferally. "Too much… gone wrong… they could… take him…"

"And if they do, you will even more need to be at your peak," Ivankov retorted. "Straw Hat, I am prepared to do everything that I can to help you save him. Everything except put his life above yours. Especially since you dying in the process would invariably damn you both."

Luffy's teeth almost cracked with how hard he clenched his jaw. The two stared each other down, neither yielding an inch. Inazuma stepped forward, her (at the moment) calm eyes staring into Luffy's.

"Both of you have people waiting for you on the outside," she pointed out. "And the ones waiting on you are depending on you. You were told not to forget them in here, yes? Then do not do so now."

That forced Luffy's expression to soften. His eyes almost closed again, images of his crew flashing across his mind. Slowly relaxing as much as his body would let him, he looked back up at Ivankov.

"If… they move him… then we move…" he said firmly, his voice allowing no compromise. "I. Move."

"Then we have a compromise," Ivankov stated, setting the box aside and stepping over to him. "Of course, all of this hinges on your will to live being as impressive as Cross-boy says. Otherwise, Ace-boy will be long gone by the time this finishes. So, as unnecessary as it is? Good luck."

He saw the fire flare back to life in Luffy's eyes, as he'd intended. Priming his will would, with any luck, accelerate the process further.

Though, it would make it no less painful.

"EMPORIO HEALING SYNTHESIS!" he declared, stabbing his fingers into both of the pirate's sides.

And then the screaming started.

-o-

Ten minutes later, once Ivankov was certain that Luffy was well on his way to healing—and had given him what was certain to be a lasting case of tinnitus—they finally exited the makeshift cell. Bentham and a handful of others stood there waiting.

"Did you have to be that harsh, my queen?"

"Against Monkey D. Luffy? Yes, I did."

The miraculous King of Queens sighed heavily as she (at the moment) ran a hand through her hair, ignoring the newcomer's affronted doubletake. "Bentham, my darling, this is going to sound very very bad, but let me be blunt: right now, I care more for Straw Hat living through this ideal than Ace. Only a smidge, but there."

"What?!" the swan-based assassin yelped in shock. "But why!"

"Because if Ace dies, it will break Luffy," Ivankov explained slowly, a sheen of cold sweat breaking out over her face. She gazed off into the distance, as if seeing through the prison's stone walls "Whereas if Luffy dies, in my care no less, the Straw Hats and a very many other strong and scary people are going to rise up as one to break me." And then just as fast, she shook off her pallor. "Now, make no mistake, we'll make every effort to get his brother out alive too, but I do have my priorities, and in this instance, I'm marginally prioritizing the one who helps me keep my head on my shoulders. Understand?"

"Well…" Bentham hedged, rubbing the back of his neck uneasily.

Ivankov's expression abruptly fell flat. "Did I mention that Cross-boy's letter says that Sanji-boy is currently on Momoiro Island?"

"URK." Bentham's eyes shot wide as a lot of old breaks and fractures spontaneously lit up. "Y-You make a very good, very… very painful point."

"Thought so. Anyway…" Standing, she walked back toward the main area of Newkama Land, his aides-de-camps trailing close behind. "Walk and talk. How goes the preparation?"

"Everyone is in the process of gathering what they can carry," Inazuma responded in his (at the moment) usual prim tone, adjusting his glasses ever so slightly. "We will likely only have several hours before Luffy is ready, but when the time comes, everyone will be ready to depart immediately. We'll be more than ready to give this prison a wake-up call it will never forget."

"And meanwhile, we have a couple of agents working on Byojack's request to lead his crew's first mate, doctor, and shipwright here while the rest of them bunker up closer to their submarine. Ah, I love how wonderfully everyone here takes to my fashion and disguise lessons…" Bentham swooned into a twirl, albeit marred by a venomous grimace. "Though while I'm on the subject, isn't it an extremely bad idea to break Byrnndi World out of prison? He's one of the ones who deserves to be in here, pirates teamed up with the Marines to put him away! Decades before the SBS, even!"

"Revolutionaries too, how else do you think the taskforce knew where to find that crazy bastard…" Ivankov muttered grimly before heaving a defeated sigh. "But if his crew has the moxie to break in here to get him out, we can't disrespect that." He gave a jerk of the head. "And besides, we'll need all the chaos we can get, and if there's one thing that titanic bastard knows, it's raising chaos. Worse comes to worst, we just put him down after he gets out, shouldn't be too hard."

"If you do take that route, don't wait for him to sleep."

Ivankov snapped his jaw shut as Byojack strolled out of a nearby passage, slowly swirling a mug of… well, they called it beer to make themselves feel better.

"Byrnndi's always been a bit paranoid, and I doubt that his capture has made things any easier," the senior pirate continued conversationally, never looking up from his swill. "If you're going to go for him, a straight slug-fest would be your best bet. Shouldn't be too difficult, he's been locked up down here for years on end, but we'll just have to wait and see, won't we?"

"I… thank you, for the advice…" Ivankov responded slowly, trying to puzzle out the right response for this situation. "But, ah, should you really be… telling me all this? I mean, he isn't he your…?"

"Brother?" Byojack dryly finished. "Yes, he is. He's also a fucker. As is the rest of his crew. But in the end, he's family and they're loyal, so I can't just walk away. All I want is to see him out of this hell. Whatever happens after this, happens."

Then, the geezer's eyes slowly took on a far-off look. "Honestly… if we could, I would love it if we could go back to how things were in the start, just exploring for the sake of it, seeing the world…" Byojack shook the mist from his eyes and sighed, tilting his helmet down in defeat. "But, I know my brother and I know that's not likely. I have a few thoughts on how I can maybe stop him from going back to that life, but we'll see. For now, just help me free him, and I'll consider us square on all counts." He stuck his hand out to Ivankov. "Agreed?"

Ivankov silently held out her hand for him to shake, musing as she did on the state of the world for a man to say that about his family. Her eyes wandered to the stone passageways that Morley had made them, this paradise in the depths of hell.

She watched as her darling newkamas who weren't preparing their exodus, as well as the two more reluctant of Straw Hats' allies, raised hell in the depths of hell one final time, celebrating their imminent liberation. Oh, they'd thrown parties before, sure. It was almost a necessity to maintain morale, to keep up hope, but always with a limit, always with their limited food on the mind. But now? No longer. All food was being cooked and eaten, and all drinks drunk down to the last drop. This was their final night, one way or another, and they intended to enjoy it.

And even in the midst of this celebration, that didn't slow the preparations one whit. Two groups had been hammered out in the midst of the mob, both centered around their latest guests. One group was huddled around an ornate scroll that the wax-man had borrowed (and Ivankov had made it exceedingly clear to the man that it was only a rental) from Straw Hat's bag and were analyzing it intently. No copies were being made, Ivankov very firmly wanted to keep that genie bottled for as long as possible, but maybe it would inspire some good bootleg ideas.

And on the other side of the room, Buggy the Clown (and wasn't there a face Ivankov hadn't expected to see in the Grand Line again in his lifetime) was directing the group surrounding him with several volatile materials around the table, helping him to assemble more of what Ivankov could unfortunately recognize as 'Muggy Balls.' Granted, they'd been named something far less asinine the last time Ivankov had seen them, but she didn't doubt that Buggy had improved the formula in the last twenty years. And if the size of some of those casings being used were anything to go by, they'd be joined by their full-sized Buggy-grade brothers to boot. Either way, no matter the outcome of this battle, it was going to be one hell of a bang.

"…28 hours," the King of Queens stated with a final nod. "We will readjust depending on Straw Hat's state, but for now, our planned departure time is 28 hours. 8 hours before the execution."

30 Hours Before the War

-o-

In the sweltering labyrinth of Level 4, a pair of kidnappers (and to an extent, their victims) were camped in a section as far from the heat sources as they could get, skulking in the shadows of an ill-observed cell.

"Gnnnrgh, damn damn damn that Straw Hat buffoon!" Caribou snarled as he paced to and fro, his well-baked tongue hanging from his jaw. "How could having the most chaotic pirate this side of the Red Line running amok make our job harder?! Now this place is on higher alert than it should be, the guards are out in force… graaaah, no choice now but to wait around until the heat dies down, and then we get back to work!"

"But… brother… the heat… isn't…"

"I KNOW THAT, YOU NITTERING NITWIT, SHUT UP!"

CLANG!

"Owww…"

Caribou snorted as he tossed his brother his spade back. "I don't need your stupidity on top of those pirates not giving us the proper protection! One disaster after another, I swear..."

"…hey… brother…" Coribou slowly piped up, a lazy sense of concern in his voice. "Just… thinking… but what if… they leave? Without… us? Won't we… be in trouble?"

Caribou stopped mid-pace at that, staring dead ahead at nothing. And then, he abruptly snapped his tongue back into his mouth, his arms crossed and his head bowed. "No. No, not a chance. They may be powerful, and their captain may be dangerous if they get him out. But there's only one reason they got in here in the first place. They won't get away with breaking their deal with him."

Coribou shivered in fear, no doubts left in his mind.

"Well, now that you boys have settled that, there's only one question left."

The brothers' attention snapped away from one another to the small mob of prisoners that had moved to loom over them, fists clenched, teeth grit and overall promising nothing short of pain.

"What, exactly," the lead prisoner demanded, slowly popping his knuckles. "Is keeping us from bashing your skulls in and turning you in to the Wardens for better treatment?"

The brothers stared at them silently before Caribou slowly re-donned his ear-to-ear grin, his tongue licking out. "Why, that would be the difference, of course. The difference between you and us, I mean. You see, you all? If you're in here alive, then it's almost a guarantee that you're Paradise pirates, because New Worlders are rarely, if ever taken alive. And if you're Paradise pirates, then that means you didn't cross the Red Line yet because you're not strong enough to do so. That's you. Us, however?"

Caribou's sleeved arm abruptly shot up—

CRACK! "ARGH!"

—and all of a sudden, the mob's leader was flat on his ass, clutching his jaw in agony. Coribou loomed over him, huffing out steam and staring at him with dead eyes as blood dripped from his spade.

"The reason we aren't in the New World…" Caribou chuckled ruthlessly, watching the agony with utter glee. "Is that we haven't gotten around to it yet. Allow us to demonstrate. Brother?" Caribou swept his arms out. "Break them."

"Yes… brother…"

One could have said that the air rang out with the sounds of shattering bones and screams of pain, but one would have had trouble telling the difference from this Hell's normal.

26 Hours Before the War

-o-

"Imbeciles! Idiots! Small-minded nitwits!"

Such was the rage of a certain scientist as he stared at the readout screens for his BioMEGAs, each of which showed nothing but static and flatlines.

"How dare they insult me so! My marvels! My masterpieces!" Ratchet clawed fruitlessly at the air, before deflating and grumbling mutinously into his palm. "…mrgh, alright, so that's a stretch, not enough trial time to make these four true masterpieces. But then, that is what testing is for."

A savage grin grew across the madman's face as he turned his gaze to the snail-printer in the room that was sending his papers across the sea.

"But with this new data? Heheheh… ooooh, the next ones most assuredly will be. That rubber-brained buffoon, and all his other outlaw allies, and that raging snake bitch especially! They'll all be sorry! They—!"

Ratchet abruptly cut his gloating off, taking a moment to glance around and ensure that nobody could hear him in his room (if that's what you wanted to call his glorified cell) before continuing in a hushed—if no less megalomaniacal—whisper.

"And soon, so soon…" he hissed, smiling with mad glee. "The whole world will be sorry… once I've installed myself as its one true, rightful ruler! Me… mekaka!"

And with that, Ratchet threw his head back and cackled madly, if only for the sake of it all.

"MEEEEKAKAKAKAKAAAAA!"

…he only got out the one cackle before slumping forwards in despair.

"Man, that is way less climactic without my lightning machine for ambiance. I need to get out of here soon, before I lose my mind!"

22 Hours Before the War

-o-

As the three Boa Sisters stepped into the land of their nightmares, they remained huddled as close to each other as possible without arousing suspicion. Had anyone asked, they would have learned that the trio would rather be in the middle of a warzone than in this apparently heavenly place. But they knew, better than most—better than its own inhabitants even—the true face of the place.

And so, deliberately forgoing the travelators, they walked the full distance from the lift to the castle. An increasingly popular choice for visitors over the last week and one of many reasons that some World Noble or another had seen to it that a law was passed forbidding any Marine from speaking to Jeremiah Cross again.

But it seemed that Hancock's request to approach Pangaea Castle free of any wooers had been granted, as the approach was miraculously deserted. Deserted, save for one entity floating in the air toward her.

"The famed Boa Hancock, I presume?" Perona greeted, her astral form lounging on the air as she spun her parasol on her shoulder. "So wonderful to meet yet another of my esteemed colleagues. Specifically, one who isn't overdosed on testosterone." She flitted down and daintily extended her hand to the senior Warlord. "'Hellbeast Princess' Perona. Charmed, I'm entirely certain."

With practiced ease, Hancock took the 'hand' as loosely as she could and smiled softly. Perona, in turn, felt heat rush to her ectoplasmic cheeks and nearly fell out of the air.

"'Pirate Empress' Boa Hancock, and indeed, the pleasure is all mine," she purred back, every syllable sending palpitations through an increasingly flustered Perona. "I'm glad to see that they've added another woman to the roster. I couldn't begin to tell you how much I dreaded associating with so many men for an entire day. Or two, heaven forbid. But with you present? I imagine the experience will be far more…" Hancock leaned in, and Perona's previously radiant blush went thermonuclear. "Tolerable."

While this 'conversation' took place (if one could call Perona stammering and fretting like she was half her age) went on, the actual focus of the pirates was spread about to their surroundings. A combination of serpent-tongues enhanced by a touch of Haki and the most subtle of Hollows ghosted over the surroundings, confirming that nobody watching was anywhere near close enough to hear their words, and neither were any snails watching or listening nearby.

"We're clear," Sonia finally confirmed, she and her sisters relaxing at the confirmation.

"Y-yeah, a-agreed," Perona stammered out, snapping her hand back and giggling nigh-hysterically as she wiped the ectoplasmic sweat from her brow. "G-Geeze… you-you really are all that. V-Very, aheh, i-impressive…"

"Believe me, I've had practice and lots of it," Hancock grumbled, massaging the migraine out of her brow. She then snapped her more typical glare up at Perona, which chased away most of her arousal. "And you. For more proper introductions, you would be yet another Mason? 'Bitch', yes?"

"I—!" Perona hissed, before slamming her jaw shut and swallowing her temper. "…close enough, yes."

"Good. Then that means you can tell me," Boa Hancock's gaze sharpened to a predatory glare that pinned the ghost princess in place. "Where in the six levels of hell IS MONKEY D. LUFFY?"

Perona's heart skipped a beat for a brand new reason, and she had to take a second to recompose herself. A process which involved a quick mutter of 'four-eyes wasn't kidding' before she cleared her throat and straightened herself up all good and proper-like.

"The latest reports we've received from Pisces say that Luffy's trail ends in Level 5's blizzards. So either that Monkey's corpse is cooling somewhere under the snow—GRK!" Perona damn-near swallowed her tongue as she felt the world somehow throttle her non-existent throat, and she scrambled to spit out her next sentence. "OR! Or-Or-Or! Or he's with the okamas and he's safe and maybe he'll even save Ace before he can get to Marineford and we'll end up having come up here for nothing that's all I know please don't kill me!" The last few words came out in a rush as Perona held up and cowered behind her astral copy of Bearsy as a makeshift shield.

Hancock kept up her glare on the spectral 'Warlord' for another minute, as though willing her to divulge a more satisfactory answer—

"OOF!"

Before she was knocked out of it by a flick to the side of her head. The Pirate Empress glared up at Sandersonia, only to falter at the distinctly unimpressed stare her green-haired sister was giving her. Followed by an equally unimpressed 'get on with it' jerk of her head in the direction of…

Hancock winced self-consciously and rubbed at her temples. Finally, she sighed and looked back at Perona.

"…I'm sorry," she sighed. "I only started even conceiving of reigning in my temper in… literally the last few weeks. It's hard to suppress… ah…"

"Being a stone-cold bitch after almost twenty years?" her middle sister 'innocently' offered.

"YES. THAT. THANK YOU, SISTER," Hancock snarled at her utterly unrepentant sibling. "The point I am trying to make is… thank you, for informing me. And… for the massive risks you are taking, helping us with… with all of this. I… we appreciate it. You didn't have to do this."

Perona, by now calmed down, silently floated in place before turning her gaze away. "Yes," she stated, some nugget of determination crystallized in her voice. "Yes, I did, and I do. For more reasons than the obvious." The ghost shot a wry smirk at Hancock. "That's why you're here too, right?"

Hancock blinked in surprise. She thought it over, before scoffing and nodding ever so slightly. "Well… you're not wrong there." She then raised her head high and gestured down the path. "Now then! On the off-chance that something does go awry—"

"Damn near certainty, really," Sandersonia interceded.

"Why do we even doubt anymore?" Marigold mused.

Hancock rolled her eyes before continuing, "—then we still have a war to attend tomorrow. And in the meantime, we have somewhere to be. So! Shall we?"

Perona giggled as she swooped down to 'walk' next to Hancock. "Why, I thought you'd never ask!"

And with that, the quartet (quintet if you counted the snake) continued their journey to the Castle from which was ruled the world. Though not without one more conversation.

"I should note, I've yet to have the privilege of meeting everyone else, and they weren't much of a topic of conversation with Moria," Perona said ever-so casually. "So what's your honest take on our…eurgh, compatriots?"

The dismissive grunt Hancock loosed was insightful all on its own. "In a few words? Impressive, in all the wrong ways. Mihawk is more force of nature than human, Kuma likely doesn't even count as human anymore, and Doflamingo and Blackbeard are just monsters. So delightful company one and all."

"Which leaves you and me as the only sane women standing…" Perona mused before letting out a wistful sigh and raising her hands in a shrug of mock-despair. "So it's girls against boys. Thanatos help me, it's elementary school all over again, except I'm wearing my makeup properly and I'm not the only one wearing pink."

And with that momentous observation, the party proceeded to venture forth into the den of the beast.

18 Hours Before the War

-o-

Luffy's return to the land of the living was sudden and abrupt. One moment he was blissfully unconscious, the next he was awake, upright, and running through a quick mental checklist.

"Zdraw Hat, you're alrighd!"

Pain? Gone. Good. Stomach? Empty. Not good, but fixable. Ace? Still unrescued. Blubbering okama-friend? Luffy blinked, finally noticing his old friend next to him, hale and healthy and bawling his eyes out.

"Bentham?" he croaked out.

"You're awake! And paying attention!" the okama cried, wrapping up Luffy in a hug. "Oh, it was awful! Braving the snows of Level 5, only to find you on Death's door with a foot in the foyer! I rushed you here and-"

"I know," Luffy interrupted, still smiling but something hard and flinty in his expression. "And thanks, Bentham. I can't thank you enough. But I need to get some meat in my belly, and I need to get to Level 6 to rescue Ace, in that order."

"The meat is already taken care of!" With a flourish, Bentham spun out of the way of an absolutely enormous repast. Immediately, he shot his arms out to grab food and start stuffing his face. "As for Level 6, some of the Newkamas are scouting it out right now! As soon as they arrive, we can formulate a plan and—"

Suddenly, the door to the room they were in slammed open, the towering, panting, and sweating figure of Emporio Ivankov standing in the frame.

"Straw Hat!" he declared. "Glad to see you're alright, but you need to eat and move! You were right, it was a risk and it just blew up in our—Nrgh, regrets later, no time now!"

Luffy snapped upright. "Is there a problem?"

Ivankov nodded tersely, teeth grinding. "You could say that, yes. The Marines moved up the timetable; they're moving Ace out of Level 6 right now!"

"WHAT!?"

-o-

The feeling of less torturous accommodations than he had come to expect over the past few days was the first thing that Ace's brain recognized. The sound and smell of the ocean immediately followed. And after that, he became aware that he was awake after losing the fight against the sleeping gas on Level 6, and his eyes snapped open.

"You're awake? Good, I didn't want to say this without you hearing it."

The surroundings as well as the uniform of the speaker gave away his location as a battleship brig. But amidst the dozen worries that that brought about, he became aware of the fact that the voice was familiar and not Garp. He stared at the Marine, and recognition came almost immediately. Vermilion hair, eyes as sharp as nails, a rapier at her waist…

"…what are you doing here, Isuka?" he breathed.

She looked at him but didn't seem to acknowledge his question.

"I always knew I'd see you in chains, Fire Fist Ace."

Her tone was impassive and impersonal as she knelt down in front of him, her gaze wandering to the bars and chains between them.

"…just never thought it would be quite like this. But hey," she spread her hands in a shrug. "You know what they're saying nowadays. You've got to ask yourself: 'Is this what I call justice? Can I take pride in something like this?'"

She let that question rest, her fingers flexing around her rapier. And then the Marine rose to her feet again, looked down on Ace, and gave him a stare as cold and hard as steel.

"…and at the end of the day, Ace? I think I can."

Ace stared at her, his breathing quickening as ice flooded his veins. "You didn't answer me, Isuka… what… are you doing here?"

"Hmph. Isn't it obvious?" Isuka snorted dismissively, her cool glare not letting up an inch. "The second the news went public, I handed in the request to Fleet Admiral Sengoku myself. And he approved it."

Something in his mind broke from the matter-of-fact statement. Just like Garp, the history between them didn't matter. The flags that they sailed under were thicker than blood. Better for some… and far, far worse for others.

"I'm your executioner, Fire-Fist Ace," Isuka stated with finality. With a sense of true, merciless, Justice.

"I'm the Marine who's going to take your head."

9 Hours Before the War